Already the dusty man on the roan rode with his revolver balanced for the snap shot.

The next instant his gun swung down, he actually reined up in astonishment.

The fugitive had flung himself far back against the cantle and sent Grey Molly at the slide.

It was not a matter of running as the mare shot over the brink.

Molly sat back on her haunches, braced her forelegs, and went down like an avalanche.